The Dangerous Effects of Love Potions
by Akantha
Summary: Set in the Marauders' era. Nothing goes to plan when Sirius attempts to play cupid with a homemade love potion.
1. Juxtaposition

**Author's Note:** Well, I've edited a few bits and such. Not drastically, mind you, so probably no one will notice the changes except me.

**Chapter One: Juxtaposition **

"Padfoot..."

"Shut up."

"Padfoot, are you sure about this?"

"I can't concentrate, Wormtail, with all your whining. It's torturing my ears." Sirius Black was checking the supplies in front of him with the list on a page he had torn from Moste Potente Potions. "Amethyst dust," he muttered, reading from the middle of the paper. He scanned the table until he located a small, chipped bottle half filled with glittering purple powder. Taking the quill from behind his ear, he marked the parchment.

"But what if we get caught?" the small boy sitting on the floor whimpered, watching his friend. Sirius had had the supply kit owled to him when hours of searching Hogwarts and Hogsmeade didn't surface the needed materials. Earlier that day, Peter, who was over-eager as always, had dropped half of the bottles and was consequently assigned the position of "look-out." Sirius only wanted him to stay a good distance away from the remaining items.

"What are we going to do if we're caught?"

"Wormtail, say that any louder and you'll _get _us caught," Sirius said in annoyance, putting aside the list momentarily.

Peter chewed worriedly on the bottom of his lip and started picking on his nails. "But - " he started.

"Look, last I checked there was _no_ rule that says we can't make a potion on our own," the taller boy sighed while returning to his paper. "And it's perfectly fine to have extra potion ingredients sent in - "

"Only to replenish your school stock though," a new voice interrupted, causing Peter to jump and Sirius to whirl around so quickly his neck cracked.

A lanky seventh-year stood in the doorway, the light from the torches flashing off his blonde hair and gleaming badge. The corners of Remus's lips turned up slightly as he surveyed Sirius rubbing his neck.

"Oww...Fuck, Moony," he winced. He frowned at Peter. "Some guard you are." Peter stared at his feet.

"Evening, Padfoot," Remus strolled towards the table. "I've been looking for you. Should've known you'd be in the Room of Requirement. Though," here his eyes shifted at the numerous jars and bottles, "I can only _guess_ at what you are doing here."

"Aw, you know I'd never do anything really bad," Sirius objected to the prefect's tone.

Remus chose not to answer. " Now what was I saying before...? " he asked thoughtfully. "Oh yes, extra supplies. Last _I_ checked, amethyst dust, obsidian sliver, and crushed dragon bone are NOT standard," he stated, reading the labels. "And aren't they very expensive? You've got dragon bone here!"

"They're worth it though," the dark-haired boy shrugged. "Besides, I thought it best not to improvise with the stronger love potions."

"What? These are for a love potion?" It was Remus's turn to massage his neck.

"Yep!" piped Peter. "It's for Prongs!" At this the werewolf's eyes narrowed.

"Sirius..." he growled. "I told you to leave James alone."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I told you already, I gave up on him last week. He's too confident, I could never have my way with him," he added the last bit as an afterthought.

"THAT'S the reason? I cannot believe you, Sirius! Do you ever see anything past - "

"I said I gave up on him, didn't I?" he sounded a tad bitter. He had never been refused before.

Remus saw that he was getting nowhere. "Then what did Pete - "

"What he meant was that I am making the potion was _for_ Prongs. It's for someone else to fall for him, not to make him fall in love."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

"If you're thinking Evans, no potion in the world would be strong enough, Sirius."

"She's already half crushed on him," Sirius snorted. "She's just too proud to admit it and our dear Prongs is too infatuated to see it. Obviously, they need outside help." He gestured grandly to himself. "They need ME! Padfoot, acting cupid for the Marauders!"

"You're mad," said Remus. Indeed, with his wide grin and a satanic gleam in his eyes, Sirius did look insane.

Up in Gryffindor tower, the aforementioned girl sat cross-legged on her bed, fuming.

Sirius was wrong about Lily Evans. She did not partially like James. No. She had past that point long ago.

But he was right in saying that she was very proud, and was not about to succumb to her petty crush after years of criticizing him. She couldn't believe she had fallen for that bigheaded idiot, always swaggering about, and showing off in class. Alright, so he wasn't an idiot, his marks were almost as high as hers. But he would get this annoying, smug look in his eyes; those brilliant, golden-brown eyes... oh _no_. Now she was fantasizing. Nothing was right anymore.

_Just accept it_, cut in a small voice in the back of her mind, sounding uncannily like Potter. She could practically see his smirk.

"This cannot be happening," she frowned at a corner of her bed.

"What can't be happening?" came a voice from the open doorway. Lily whirled around and caught sight of long black hair before quickly moving aside as her roommate jumped on her bed.

"Dorcas!" she gasped, "If you don't kill me one day, I will kill you! Or someone else will..."

The other girl laughed and flopped down on her front. "You don't mean that," she grinned at Lily. "Besides I only do it to you; no one else jumps _nearly_ as high."

"I'm honored," Lily said darkly, snatching a pillow and thumping it on her friend's head, smiling at Dorcas' muffled yell.

"Don't think I've forgotten," Dorcas peeked at Lily from beneath the down, her voice sounding distant. She pulled the pillow off, scattering a few random feathers. "Why in Merlin's name were you conversing with the bedpost?" Lily turned away and blushed. A sly, cheshire grin crept up Dorcas' lips. _Aha_.

"Out with it now. C'mon."

"No."

"But you want to tell me. You know you want to tell me. You do, don't you?"

"No."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't. I think I know myself a little better than you do."

"Hah!"

"Shut up."

"Really, though, if you truly wanted to keep it a secret, you wouldn't just announce it. You would just let it fester inside you."

"I thought the room was _empty_. And I never announced any secret!" Dorcas had this uncanny and annoying way of guessing information.

"Just tell me, Lily. You'll feel better. And I'll be a much nicer audience than any old furniture."_ And I've already figured it out anyway._

Lily, doubting Dorcas' last comments, didn't reply.

"You fancy someone don't you?"

The red head opened her mouth, a denial ready on her lips, when she... hesitated.

"You do!" the brunette crowed.

"Yes..." Lily blushed again. "But I'm not telling you who," she added sternly.

"Pfft, I don't need you to say who. I already know there's a ninety percent chance it's a certain hazel-eyed seeker."

"Dorcas! Not so loud..." Lily took out her wand and magicked the door shut. "Besides, ninety percent? Who's the other ten percent supposed to be?"

"Just being careful. But you're right, better raise it to an even hundred." Dorcas nodded gravely.

Lily reached for the pillow again.


	2. Dementia

Author's Note: Another chapter I've done a bit of minor editing on recently.  
Tardy Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. The plot (ha-ha, plot) and all character descriptions of Dorcas are mine though.

**Chapter Two: Dementia**

"Hey."

"Hmm."

"Hello-o-o!"

"Hmm."

"You're not listening to a word I say, are you?"

"Hmm."

Sirius sighed heavily, narrowing his eyes at his best friend, thoroughly annoyed. Here he was, doing James a great favor out of the infinite goodness of his Black heart, (James didn't even have to ask him for it!) and all James could do was mope. And mope. And mope some more. He had also taken the last piece of cinnamon cake. Sirius felt so depreciated.

It would also be pointless to tell him about The Plan. He was too out of it, finally succumbing to thepersistant but long held at baymisery nagging at his heart since third year. _Oh well_, Sirius thought, though slightly disappointed in James. Soon he will be _dancing_ with incalculable joy. _I like surprises better._ Or rather, surprising others. He hated it when people kept him out of the loop. He eyed the untouched cake on James' plate.

What exactly did Evans have that could affect James like this? Confident, brave James? Sirius had been surprised anyone could make James fall for them (except the great Padfoot, of course he never doubted himself. But that had been a disappointing failure), let alone a studious girl like her. Sirius shook his head, dark hair flying away from his eyes only to resettle across his vision once more.

Best not think about such trivial things, he told himself lightly. Sometime next week, if not earlier, James will erect a large stone monument in the common room in honor of Sirius Black, loyal Marauder and Matchmaker extraordinaire. That sounded lovely, he should write it down for James to remember.

Right now however…

"Where were you at breakfast, mate? Not spying on the girls' showers again?"

James gave another indifferent 'hmm.' Those were really starting to tic Sirius off.

"I don't suppose you'd eat that cake anytime soon?"

James didn't answer, only picked at his carrots absently. Sirius blinked.

"Right then, that settles it." With that Sirius reached over and plucked the cake from in front of James and promptly commenced stuffing his mouth with half of the slice. Oh the cinnamony goodness. In went the rest. He was going to have to abduct one of the house-elves when he left, so he could continue to enjoy these little pieces of heaven. Either that or learn to bake, which was absolutely ridiculous. Imagine him _baking_.

"Hey!" came James' protesting cry. So the zombie _does_ talk. "I was going to eat that!"

"Then why didn't you say something when I asked?" Sirius calmly brushed a sugary crumb off near the side of his mouth.

"Since when did you ever ask anyone for anything?"

Sirius sighed loudly again.

From the desk of Professor Minerva McGonagall:

Detention Notice  
Student Name: Dorcas Meadowes  
Reason: Abusive use of the Scouring Charm on fellow Gryffindor Lily Evans' head during second block Transfiguration.  
Date of Detention: October 25, 1976  
Manner of Detention: Polishing trophies supervised by Mr. Argus Filch

"Now look at what happened, I got a detention because of you!"

"That is your own fault, yours alone."

"And it's _your_ fault for not washing your hair! All that scratching was so bothersome…"

"If you must know, I was afraid the showers were bugged!"

"Bugged?" Dorcas' eyebrows gathered in confusion. "As in, spiders in the showers? What have you to be scared of a few spiders?"

"It's a Muggle term," Lily replied tiredly, gently rubbing her scalp. It still tingled from the charm. "When something is 'bugged' it means it has these hidden little cameras, used for spying on people."

"Interesting…" Dorcas wasn't sure she got it completely. So Muggles called little cameras 'bugs.' "But what made you think you were being watched, bugs or no bugs?"

"I just had that feeling," Lily gave up on trying to explain the mysterious ways of Muggles to Dorcas. "I don't know, it felt like _he_ was _there_, somehow… but I couldn't see him."

"You are definitely paranoid," Dorcas shook her head, having given up trying to understand the mysterious ways of Muggles. "Honestly, being watched in the showers… well, in any case, I could personally clean that head of yours from now on if you like," she offered cheerfully. "It'll probably be good practice for me."

Lily, who had taken out her homework, gave an involuntary twitch, blotting her nearly completed History essay. "Thank you, but I feel I must turn down your, er, _gracious_ proposal. My head doesn't need to be any redder." She took out her wand and cleared the blot.

"But dirty hair is never becoming on anyone," Dorcas chided.

"I'll manage." Lily muttered dryly. "If anything, practice on your section of the dorm. It's a horror." Dorcas waved off her comment with a huff and took out her Arithmancy book.

In the short, ensuing silence, Lily gazed thoughtfully out the window at the cloudy grey skies, glad for the fire in the common room, and allowed her mind to drift, only vaguely acknowledging that Dorcas was speaking again after a while. She wondered what he was doing right that moment.

"Can't stop thinking about him, can you?"

"No, I guess not. It's just he's always – hey! No fair, getting at me with my guard down!"

Dorcas smiled impishly. "So sorry. If I had known I wouldn't have interrupted you during your fantasies."

"Dorcas…" there was a warning tone in Lily's voice, along with implicit hints of the untimely demise of a certain girl by the surname of 'Meadowes'.

"I surrender," said girl raised both her hands. "I can take subtlety. So I'll just get out my own essays and leave you to your naughty reveries in peace."

Lily glared at her bent head. Oh yes, Dorcas will die very soon. The only question is: Knife, or wand?

By the time Remus and Peter entered the Great Hall, the argument between James and Sirius had developed into a full-fledged wizard duel, with the other students taking shelter under the tables or fleeing for their young lives. The two boys themselves were standing _on_ the tables. James was situated on Gryffindor's, plates and silverware scattered around his feet, and Sirius on Hufflepuff's, covered in copious amounts of gravy and fluffy mashed potatoes. Remus figured from the looks of the scene (including an overturned tureen and several broken dishes) that James had somehow jetted his comrade-turned-foe across the room.

The werewolf sighed and massaged his temples. First, three hours of tutoring Peter on History and now – this. And to think he had deluded himself to believing he was actually about to enjoy a nice quiet meal. He tentatively approached his warring companions. _Where the heck are all the teachers during this_? he wondered, as he approached what seemed his early doom.

"What do you know about anything!"

"Bloody well enough to know how pathetic you're being!"

The topic had started on cakes, moved on to a disagreement on shoes and corn, and finally erupted into a row about James' love life. Simple really.

James scowled at Sirius. Stupid Sirius in all his gravy glory, and he still had that self-righteous look on his face, damn git.

"Don't call me pathetic," he growled.

Sirius was indignant at the unfairness of it all. Some people could be so ungrateful, especially when he was doing James a service. Granted, James didn't know about it, but such details were trivial! He licked the brown sauce off his lips.

"What was that?" he called back. "I couldn't hear you with your pathetic voice."

"I said, DON'T YOU BLOODY CALL ME PATHETIC!" A red beam whizzed towards Sirius. He ducked just in time, but fell onto a platter of broccoli. He groaned and quickly pushed the little green vegetables out of his face and onto the floor. He never cared for the stuff.

Remus groaned as he watched. He loved broccoli.

"Right,'cause you're not that at all." Sirius got on his feet. Behind him, the Slytherin banner dropped gracelessly from the ceiling. And in a moment of daring, despite having lost his wand, he shouted at James, who was fully armed by the way, "Pathetic! Pathetic! Jamesie is PATHETIC!"

Remus had to tackle Sirius down to avoid the rapid barrage of angry, fiery streaks from James' wand. Peter dived under the nearest table, trembling. "P-Prongs," he attempted in a timid voice, but his voice was drowned out by James' screams of rage.

"James!" Remus tried this time, louder, but still got nothing. He wished the bespectacled Marauder would stop; the flashes were irritating his eyes. It didn't help that Sirius was struggling from under him, all the while launching even more insults.

"James- " Oh come on, already. _Was it really that hard to calm down his friend?_ a voice in Remus' head scornfully inquired. Should one stand in from of a charging, steroid-enhanced bull?

Sirius pushed Remus off at last and starting throwing every fork he could get his hands on, aiming for every bit of James he could.

Just when all hope seemed very lost to Remus, and the ending seemed very bleak – and full of pointy objects –

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?"

Ah, their Savior! By the name of McGonagall.

From a growing pile of detention notices on Professor Minerva McGonagall's desk:

Student Name: James Potter  
Reason: Destruction and unauthorized renovating of the Great Hall. Intent of causing bodily harm to fellow students. Behavior simply not chivalrous nor civilized.  
Date of Detention: October 25, 1976  
Manner of Detention: Given the duty of cleaning up the mess in the hall properly, no magic. Supervised by Argus Filch. Will be aided by Sirius Black.

Student Name: Sirius Black  
Reason: Shamelessly provoking James Potter into an uncontrollable fit. Initiating a duel in the middle of dinner.  
Date of Detention: October 25, 1976  
Manner of Detention: Assisting Mr. Potter in clearing the Great Hall. Will submit in a report on 'Proper Dinner Etiquette' due the next Transfiguration class.

And some notes:

Mr. Potter,  
I must say, I am severely ashamed and disappointed at your lack of self-control and temperance, which you demonstrated today. This is not the sort of behavior one displays as Head Boy. I expect you to work on improving yourself and I will tolerate no more instances such as this.  
Sincerely,  
Professor McGonagall,  
Deputy Head Mistress

Mr. Lupin,  
I continue to hope that you will influence Mr. Potter and Mr. Black to be more productive and reliable members of society. Also, should a similar event were to happen (heaven forbid), I urge you to take matters more rather than less into your hands.  
Sincerely,  
Professor McGonagall

Ms. Meadowes,  
I am informing you that there has been a slight change in your detention. You will now serve it with Mr. Potter and Black in the Great Hall. The date is still set for tomorrow, though in the morning.  
Sincerely,  
Professor McGonagall

After breakfast (served in the common rooms) Sirius had trudged towards the decimated Great Hall, taking as much time as he possibly could. Unsurprisingly, he was the last of the trio of unhappy Gryffindors to arrive. James had skipped the morning meal and was slumped on one of the few clean spaces on the Ravenclaw bench. Next to him was an equally disgruntled, pale-faced seventh-year, taking in the hall with wide golden eyes. Sirius recognized her with a start. _Dorcas?_ His eyes grinned. But instead of her usual vulpine smile, he was met with a piercing glare that said all too clearly, _You. I blame you_.

"Ah, Mr. Black, so nice of you to finally join us." Filch soundedfar too satisfied. Sirius looked away from Dorcas. "Now we can begin." Leering at them, he produced two brooms and a mop, as well as dust pans and buckets. He thrust the brooms at the boys. "I believe you know that there are other uses for brooms besides flying."

_Yeah_, thought Sirius. _Like shoving it right up your –_

"Best get on with it then," said Filch gleefully, sauntering away. "Mrs. Norris will check on you every half-hour." With that, the doors thudded shut, but they could hear the janitor _whistling_. Sirius felt nauseous.

For a moment, none of them did anything. James just glared at Sirius, Sirius glared at James, and Dorcas alternated between glaring at both of them and the mess. Finally, Sirius sighed and gave the broccoli an experimental sweep. They scattered even further away. This was going to be a long day.

Doomed. She was doomed. She would never leave this vast and evil chamber with the dazzling sunshine outside raying down on her. _Such a bright, lovely day_, the enchanted ceiling seemed to be saying. A perfect day for a lazy nap by the lake, she thought wistfully, before working off an easy detention (the trick was to spray the dusty trophies with Claris' Cleaning Solution five minutes before wiping them dry). But noooo….

She was stuck here, in a vast, evil chamber full of synthetic light, horribly trapped with a demonic chore to finish and nothing to distract her from her tedium save for a rare cough and sneeze from the two boys. The injustice of it all! Here she was, being punished for the rowdiness of others. Something was wrong with this picture. She slapped the wet mop against the stone, gravy-drenched floor.

Author's Note: Unfortunately, my workload is piling up again (despite my efforts to cease my sad habit of procrastinating) and I can't seem to stay away from non-educational writing (hence the completion of another chapter of the soon to be epic)… Shame on me. Well, make it worth my while to write. Give me a reason to go on, a beacon of light in my moment of despair (for homework will be the downfall of me). Leave me reviews, windows shedding light on your opinions! Ok, enough dramatics.


End file.
